Chapter 9 - To Not Getting in the Car
Five years later, Avery graduated from college with a degree in social work.
Becca was seventeen then, the same age Avery had been that night.
She wore glasses with blue frames now and drove a used silver hatchback she proudly said was “aggressively not green.”
Natalie did not attend the graduation.
She sent flowers.
Avery kept them for two days, then threw them away when they started to wilt.
Not out of rage.
Out of peace.
Some things are allowed to be temporary.
David cried through the whole ceremony.
Becca recorded him and threatened to use it as blackmail.
Afterward, they went to a diner instead of a fancy restaurant because Avery wanted pancakes.
The pancakes were better than David’s.
He admitted this under protest.
At the table, Becca raised her orange juice.
“To not getting in the car.”
Avery laughed.
David’s eyes filled.
“To porch lights,” he said.
Avery lifted her glass.
“To waiting where people can see you.”
May you like
They clinked glasses.
Outside the diner window, rain began falling lightly on the parking lot.
